


One of These Nights

by wouldyouknowmore



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Thor (2011), Canon-Typical Violence, First Time, Incest, M/M, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-07-30 00:21:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16275362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wouldyouknowmore/pseuds/wouldyouknowmore
Summary: Never before has Loki seen such a look on his father’s face, not in a thousand years of troublemaking and misbehavior, and the reality of the situation strikes him like a clap of thunder.He’s been found out.Both Thor and Loki have been stripped of their powers and banished to Midgard following the disastrous trip to Jotunheim. Thor attempts to come to terms with his unworthiness and past mistakes, and Loki struggles with the recent discovery of what he might be, keeping his suspicions (and his role in the Jotunn incursion into Asgard) to himself, all while their long-suppressed feelings for each other finally come to light.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S HERE IT'S FINALLY HERE
> 
> I'm so delighted to announce that my partner in crime for this fic has been the AMAZINGLY TALENTED AND OVERALL WONDERFUL SPACEHUSSY a round of applause, everyone :')
> 
> You can find her exceptional piece of accompanying art [here](https://spacehussy.tumblr.com/post/179902408255/and-then-when-thor-asks-him-after-all-ive-done)!
> 
> HUGE thanks to the mods for putting this on for us! All your hard work is appreciated <333

Loki has occasionally been accused of poor decision making in the past, but today, he has truly outdone himself.

 

The roar of the Bifrost drowns out his father’s voice as he whispers something against Mjolnir’s uru head, and then she’s cast out after Thor as well, to what end, Loki can’t begin to guess. He had planned for none of this, not the foolhardy trip to Jotunheim, nor the chaos that had ensued there, and certainly not his brother’s banishment, disgraced and stripped of his godhood. But as he stares desperately into the Bifrost’s beam, hoping for one last glimpse of Thor, he’s already trying to come up with some way to fix what he’s set into motion.

 

His mother may be his only hope, he thinks. Odin won’t listen to him, that much is certain, but Frigga has interceded for both her boys hundreds of times throughout the centuries, and surely she won’t agree with this decision… surely she’ll be able to make Odin reconsider. It may take some time, but if he’s being honest, Loki thinks a little break for Thor to cool his head may not be so awful… Just a small one.

 

Loki’s already begun to think of how best to word his plea for lenience when, suddenly, he realizes something.

 

Odin has not yet closed the Bifrost.

 

“It would seem I have been afflicted not with one unworthy son,” the Allfather says as Loki slowly turns to face him, “but with two.”

 

Odin’s one eye is fixed upon him, his mouth set in a stern line, but it’s clear that Loki is not about to receive a scolding, as he might have expected. Never before has he seen such a look on his father’s face, not in a thousand years of troublemaking and misbehavior, and the reality of the situation strikes him like a clap of thunder.

 

He’s been found out.

 

“Father, I—”

 

 _“Silence,”_ Odin commands, and Loki nearly bites his tongue snapping his mouth shut. “I have no use for your lies or excuses. I do not know what you hoped to accomplish through this vile act of treason, nor do I care to know. Your brother has condemned himself through his reckless actions, but you would have destroyed us all for your bitter jealousy and greed.”

 

How carefully Loki thought he had covered his tracks, concealing himself from Heimdall’s sight, sending untraceable messages to Jotunheim, but he sees now that he was a fool to think he could keep this from the Allfather.

 

“Since time out of mind, treason has always been punishable by death,” Odin continues, and fear grips Loki then, even more intensely than it had just minutes ago on Jotunheim when they were facing down an army of frost giants. “As king of Asgard, I am bound to ancient law, the same as any citizen of the realm. And so, Loki Odinson, for your crimes against the throne and the realm, I hereby sentence you to die.”

 

The words haven’t even registered properly when Odin strikes out with his power, swift and merciless, and seizes Loki’s seidr in an iron grip, the sensation altogether shocking and abhorrent. He’s always known that there were ways to dampen a sorcerer’s abilities, but he had no idea that something like this was even possible, and the display of Odin’s strength is terrifying.

 

But Odin does not send for the einherjar then, to carry Loki off to the dungeons to await his execution. Instead, he closes his outstretched hand, carefully, deliberately, and _pulls_.

 

The pain is instantaneous and excruciating as Loki’s seidr is torn from him, not unraveling like a loosely-woven tapestry, but ripped across the weft, edges fraying and ragged.

 

“It may take days, or decades,” Odin says, his voice audible even over the screams of agony that Loki then realizes are his own, “but die you shall, stripped of your power and exiled from this realm.”

 

As the last threads snap, Loki feels darkness closing in, frigid and unyielding, and then everything goes black.

  


———

  


Loki wakes, though it takes him some time to be certain that he has.

 

A broad expanse of stars is spread out before him, and for a moment, he wonders if he’s just been cast out into the void… but if that were the case, it probably wouldn’t feel so much like he’s got several sharp rocks digging into his shoulders and backside. Which he does, he discovers, when he attempts to move.

 

The world tilts alarmingly as he hauls himself up to a seated position, but once he regains his equilibrium, he sees that he’s in a desert of some kind, with unfamiliar stars overhead and a single moon. Midgard, then, most likely. He supposes that Odin could have chosen a less pleasant world to banish him to.

 

He remembers what had happened, every word that his father had spoken (though that surprises him, considering the shock and the pain he’d been subjected to at the time), so there’s no sudden realization, no heartbreaking recollection. And he knows what’s been taken from him (the once-constant, quiet thrum of power just beneath his skin is gone), but he can’t stop himself from trying anyway, thinking back to the first spell his mother had ever taught him and attempting to conjure up a small orb of light.

 

For centuries, Loki’s been able to do it without even thinking, the spell waiting just below the surface for his command, but there’s simply nothing there to call and shape into being. The confirmation of his loss leaves his stomach turning, and when he probes deeper, closing his eyes and concentrating hard, all he finds is emptiness, darkness, and creeping cold. As cold as Jotunheim had been, he thinks—and then immediately abandons the search and turns his gaze outward instead on the desert in front of him. He hasn’t forgotten the way the blue had spread up his arm under that frost giant’s touch, but he’s not prepared to explore that just yet. If ever.

 

But he can’t sit in the dirt forever, or live off of scrubby grass, and the wind is cutting through his thin under tunic (his layers of leather and mail have disappeared—likely taken at the same time as his seidr without his noticing) and chilling him to the bone. As much as he’d like to sit here and wallow for a little while, every moment he did would be another wasted, and he’s got to come up with a plan soon.

 

When he begins to climb to his feet, however, he notices something strange about the scorch-mark left by the Bifrost beneath him. It’s curiously doubled, almost like it had been burned in once, then again—

 

 _“Thor!”_ Loki shouts, scrambling to his feet as he realizes what it means. Why Odin would banish them both to the same place is beyond him, but hope swells in his chest all the same, even though there’s still no answer when he shouts again. There’s a tracking spell that he could have used if his seidr hadn’t been taken, but he hasn’t forgotten what hundreds of years of traipsing after Thor through the wilderness on quest after quest has taught him, and any hunter worth their salt could follow the clear tracks leading away from the Bifrost landing site.

 

Four sets of footprints… and those must be Thor’s, he thinks, though it seems he had not walked away from this encounter. His tracks end abruptly, only to be replaced with signs of something heavy being dragged away, so he must have been subdued somehow and rendered unconscious. The thought of Midgardians being capable of such a thing is a troubling one, but Loki sees no blood, and hopes that whatever damage done to his brother isn’t lasting. 

 

They appear to have struggled with Thor’s bulk for a few yards, but eventually managed to load him onto some sort of vehicle, and its tracks stretch off into the distance. There’s no way to know where they may have taken Thor, or what condition he may be in, but Loki has a direction now, and he’ll deal with whatever lies in his path as he comes upon it. But first of all, he means to put miles behind him tonight if he has to.

 

With one last look up at the stars, Loki takes a steadying breath, and starts walking.  
  


 

———

———

 

 

The last day has undoubtedly been the worst of Thor’s life. He’s gone from being only moments from taking the throne, surrounded by his friends and family and the admiring public, to being disgraced and exiled after what should have been a glorious battle but became his undoing instead. He’s now been overcome not once, but _twice_ by feeble Midgardians, subjected to all manner of indignities by the pathetic excuse for healers they call ‘doctors,’ and finally, dressed in a stranger’s castoffs and given a meager portion of mass produced, artificial-tasting pastries for a meal.

 

That food should be his chief concern at such a time surprises him—that’s something he would expect of Volstagg instead—but it doesn’t change the fact that he _is_ very hungry, and so he counts it as his first small success when his hosts suggest an outing to a nearby dining establishment when the pastries prove insufficient.

 

(Jane Foster still seems intent on getting answers from him—her tenacity seems to make up for her small stature—but perhaps this further delay will give him a chance to decide how much he can say without saying too much. He may not be much of a god anymore, but he still doesn’t want to share more advanced knowledge than the Midgardians can handle.)

 

The village is small, and its inhabitants all appear to know one another, several people waving to Jane as they walk, though they eye Thor curiously. So it’s unexpected when Darcy spots a stranger, pointing down the street toward the desert and saying, “Who’s this guy? Dudes, check out leather pants over here.”

 

The person in question is tall and slim, clothes dusty from travel, but as he makes his way into town, he looks up at the sun to get his bearings—and Thor’s heart leaps into his throat when he sees his face.

 

“Loki!” he shouts in disbelief, but it’s undoubtedly his brother, and Loki stops in his tracks when he hears his name. Thor can’t imagine what he’s doing here… but the sight of him is such an incredible relief that he breaks into a run and meets him halfway, pulling him close just to make sure he’s real.

 

“Thank the Norns,” Loki gasps, sagging in his arms. “I lost the trail miles ago when the tracks joined the road. I thought I’d lost you for good.”

 

His face is smudged with dirt and his hair a windblown mess when Thor pulls back to look him in the face, but Loki is really here—and a sudden hope grips him. “Did Mother send you?” he asks, desperate. “Are you here to bring me home?”

 

Loki hesitates then, his face falling and Thor’s hopes with it. “No,” he says after a moment. “No, I wish I were… But I’ve been banished as well.”

 

This news hits him like a punch in the gut, but he sees now that Loki’s armor is gone, too, and his eyes are swollen… and Thor knows it must be true. “Why?” is all he can manage to say, lifting a hand to his brother’s face. “Why you as well?”

 

Loki pauses again, dropping his gaze from Thor’s as though it hurts to say it. “I should have stopped it. I should never have let you go to Jotunheim.”

 

“And Father blamed you for it,” Thor says. What had been frustration and anger on his own behalf quickly becomes overwhelming guilt as he begins to understand what he’s done. “This is my fault,” he realizes aloud.

 

“No, it isn’t,” Loki says urgently, looking him in the eyes again and gripping his arms. “I made my own choice. But all that matters is that we’re here together now.”

 

He doesn’t deserve it, but he can’t help but take comfort in the fact that Loki would still try and reassure him after everything that’s happened. “I’m glad of it,” he admits, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. “It’s selfish, I know, and I am sorry. But I’m glad to have you with me, brother.”

 

“Whoa whoa whoa, _whooooaa_ ,” someone suddenly interjects, far closer than Thor had noticed, and he looks up to find that they’re standing in the middle of the street, a crowd gathered on the pavement just a few yards away. There’s also a line of vehicles stopped on either side of them, their pilots leaning out the windows in confusion.

 

 _“Brother?”_ Darcy continues incredulously, stepping even closer, and Thor wonders just how long she’s been standing there. The glare that Loki gives her could likely freeze a lesser being solid, but Darcy’s already proven herself quite fearsome as far as Thor’s concerned, especially with her little weapon in hand.

 

“Okay, this is super touching, but maybe we should move the, uh, family reunion to the sidewalk here,” Jane cuts in then. Her small hands push insistently at Thor’s back, so with one last grateful look at his brother, he allows himself to be herded out of the road, pulling Loki along with him by the hand.

  


———

  


“You’re telling me his name is _Loki_?” Selvig asks Thor as another plate of food is set before him. (The first round of eggs and ham and potatoes had been much more satisfying than the pastries, and this ‘short stack’ Jane had ordered him looks promising as well.) “‘Thor and Loki,’ like the gods? You’re serious?”

 

It’s nice that humans still remember them, Thor thinks, but the extra scrutiny isn’t something that either of them need at the moment. Clearly thinking the same, Loki gives him a barely-there wink and says, “Our parents are a bit old-fashioned.”

 

“Yeah, well, I still can’t believe you’re brothers,” Darcy says. “I totally thought you two were banging.”

 

The All-tongue can only translate so much, and while a good amount of what Darcy’s said since Thor had met her has been lost on him, he’s fairly certain of what she’s getting at this time. It wouldn’t be the first time such things have been said of them, but Thor turns his attention to his short stack and avoids his brother’s eyes as he always does, not quite prepared to look that particular issue in the face right now.

 

“ _Any_ way,” Jane says, eyeing Darcy, “since I’m buying breakfast, why don’t you two tell me exactly what happened last night. Both of you—because my instruments picked up another geomagnetic anomaly just after we left with Thor, so Loki, there’s no way that you just waltzing in out of the desert right after is a coincidence.”

 

She stares Loki down, brown eyes stern, and when he only acknowledges this with a quiet _hm_ , she turns her gaze on Thor.

 

“How about you, then?” she asks. “Why don’t you tell me how you wound up in that cloud?”

 

He makes no reply but to stare back, following Loki’s lead, and within a few seconds, Jane’s face grows pink, as though she’s embarrassed at the attention. But before she can collect herself and press them any further, a conversation across the room catches her interest.

 

“Hold that thought—did you say there was a satellite crash?” she calls over to the two men seated at a high counter, and Thor takes the opportunity to dig into his pancakes while Darcy watches, fascinated for whatever reason, and points an electronic device of some kind in his face, asking him to smile. Loki rolls his eyes when Thor complies—but then the humans over at the counter say something that changes the entire outlook of the foreseeable future.

 

“It was heavy. _Real_ heavy. I mean, nobody could lift it,” one of them says to Jane, and Thor silently blesses the Norns for this guidance.

 

He’s on his feet in an instant, Loki jumping up after him and starting, “Thor, wait—,” but his path has been laid before him, so he ignores this for the moment and marches over to the counter.

 

“Where?” he demands, and both of them jump.

 

“Fifty miles east of here, but—”

 

He doesn’t wait to hear the rest (as though anything these humans could tell him would give him pause), and with a glance behind him to make sure Loki is following, he heads to the door.

 

“Do you have a plan, then?” Loki asks, right on his heels. “Or are we just making it up as we go? Since that always seems to work out so well…”

 

Considering the timing, another pang of guilt accompanies this sarcastic remark, but Jane shouts, “Hey, where are you guys going?” then, and she, Darcy, and Selvig catch up to them by the time they reach the road.

 

“Fifty miles east of here, apparently,” Loki tells her, though his tone suggests he’s not entirely onboard with this venture.

 

“Why?”

 

“Thor dropped something, that’s all.”

 

“Nuh-uh, hold up,” Jane huffs, hurrying to get in front of them and block their way with her hands raised. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but neither of you has told me anything about what happened in the desert, and I want some answers. Besides, whatever you think you’re going to find has the government crawling all over it, so what are you going to do? Just walk in?”

 

“Yes,” Thor says with complete confidence, and Jane groans in frustration… but then again, fifty miles is quite a distance to walk, so perhaps her assistance is worth a small concession. “And if you take us there,” he adds, “we’ll give you all the answers you seek, after I reclaim what’s mine.”

 

Loki raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t argue, and for a moment, Thor is sure that Jane will accept. But then Selvig pulls her aside, giving Thor and Loki both a suspicious frown, and after a brief whispered discussion, Jane lets out a sigh and says, “I can’t take you. I’m sorry.”

 

It’s a blow, but not a crippling one, and if his expression is to be trusted, his brother finds this development entirely unsurprising. But Loki puts on a charming sort of smile and steps forward to take Jane’s hand in his.

 

“Then it seems we must bid you farewell,” he says. “I thank you and your companions for the meal, Jane Foster, and for looking after my brother. Perhaps we’ll see each other again.”

 

The chivalrous bow he gives her leaves her flustered, saying, “Um, sure. Yeah. You’re welcome?”

 

After Thor has echoed these sentiments and his hosts have departed (Darcy giving them a clumsy but endearing curtsy as she leaves), leaving him with a strong feeling of anticlimax, Loki takes him by the elbow and steers him out of the middle of the street.

 

“Alright, brother, tell me this,” he says, voice low. “Even if it _is_ Mjolnir, and even if you _can_ get it back, what then? We’re still stranded on Midgard.”

 

It’s a valid question, but Thor suspects that the answer will come to him in due time. At any rate, the situation will be significantly better once he has his hammer in hand, that much he knows.

 

“ _Then_ , brother,” he replies, “I suppose we’ll continue to make it up as we go. But first things first. We need horses.”

 

Loki looks up and down the street, pointedly, and turns an annoyed glare back on him. “Do you see anyone on a horse?” he asks. “Come on. I have an idea.”

  


———

———

  


His plan hasn’t been the most successful so far, but Loki couldn’t have anticipated that the man in the ‘truck’ (as he’d called it) would have taken the request to borrow his vehicle so poorly.

 

“You want me to _what_?” he’d said, and before Loki could repeat himself, there was a small weapon aimed at him through the window, and the man had added, “You ain’t taking this truck, sonny. I’ll tell you that right now. You just gonna keep on moving and get your own. Goddamn hippies.”

 

Which was a reasonable suggestion, Loki had concluded once they were safely away, and Thor had agreed—up until Loki had identified a suitable target left on a side street, far from watchful eyes.

 

“Loki, we can’t steal it,” his brother urges, but the door opens easily, and Loki leans into the vehicle to examine the controls.

 

“We’re borrowing it. Why? Did you intend to pay for your horse with Asgardian gold?”

 

Thor has no response for that, though he does attempt to make himself larger and hide Loki from view, so Loki continues his prodding, unsuccessful, until he sees a small slot near the steering wheel.

 

“We seem to need a key,” he says to himself.

 

“Surely you can manage without. Are there spells that might help?”

 

Frustrated, Loki drops into the seat and lets out a sigh. “Unlikely,” he says, and starts pulling at the plastic panels around the slot. “But even if there were, Father saw fit to relieve me of my power as well.”

 

“Loki, I—,” Thor starts, but there’s already pity in his voice, so Loki cuts him off before he can say anything more.

 

“But perhaps I can solve this the old-fashioned way,” he says as a panel pops loose, revealing wires beneath.

 

“Oh my god, are you hot-wiring that car?!”

 

Both of them startle, and Thor adopts a defensive stance as he turns to evaluate the threat. But it’s only Jane Foster, leaning out the window of her own vehicle, stopped in the street.

 

“Tell me you’re not stealing that car,” she says, then waves a hand dismissively. “Actually, you know what? I don’t wanna know. Just get over here.”

 

It seems that she’s reconsidered, and once Loki and Thor have climbed in, Loki taking the front seat, she explains that right after they’d parted ways, she and Darcy and Selvig had arrived back at the lab just in time to see that all of her research and equipment and data had been appropriated by the same government agency that had taken over the crash site.

 

“Which means,” she concludes, “that not only is all of this probably connected somehow, you guys are all I’ve got. I’m not one hundred percent sold on this, but I don’t have a lot of options… But if I help you, I seriously want answers when this is done. Deal?”

 

“Agreed,” Loki says, and Thor nods in the back seat.

 

“Great,” Jane says. “I’m gonna regret this, but great.”

  


———

  


By the time they arrive at the site, the sun has set behind the mountains, and the glare of several enormous spotlights is shining over a small ridge just off the road. A quick look from a distance is a wise step, they all agree, so Jane parks the vehicle out of sight, and they slowly make their way to the top of the ridge, crawling the last few feet just to be safe.

 

“No way this is just a satellite,” Jane says once they see the small city teeming with activity below. “They would have just hauled the wreckage away.”

 

Unless they weren’t able to do so, Loki knows, and combined with the satisfied look on Thor’s face, it only confirms that Mjolnir is down there, most likely right in the center of everything where the Midgardians are thickest. Walking in through the front gate is obviously not an option, he sees, but the rear of the compound could work…

 

“I can draw those guards away,” he says to Thor, pointing toward the three men patrolling the fence line. “That should give you an opening.”

 

“Once I have Mjolnir, getting out should be no trouble. I’ll meet you back here. And Jane, you should stay where you are.”

 

“Hold on! ‘No trouble?’ You think you’re just gonna walk out of this?” she says incredulously, and even though Loki has every intention of going along with it anyway, he has to admit that he agrees with her to some extent.

 

Stranding both of them in the same place in the same realm was odd enough, but the idea that Odin would leave Mjolnir here as well, and allow Thor to just take it back without a fuss after everything that’s happened, makes no sense at all. Frigga has always said that everything their father does has a purpose, and so Loki suspects it won’t be nearly as easy as that.

 

But he keeps all this to himself. He knows Thor won’t be swayed from his course until he’s failed, so for now, Loki will stick with his brother and do his best to keep the damage minimal.

 

However, when Thor strips off his borrowed jacket and tells Jane, “No, I’m going to _fly_ out,” a rumble of thunder echoes over the desert, and the stars blink out of view as quickly-accumulating clouds roll in. It’s very obviously Thor’s doing, and the display of his power, even in his weakened state and so far from his hammer, reminds Loki what his brother is really capable of.

 

Thor drops his jacket over Jane’s shoulders as the first raindrops begin to fall, and once he and Loki have slid to the bottom of the slope, he reaches out and gives Loki’s shoulder a squeeze.

 

“Don’t get caught, brother,” he says, and Loki rolls his eyes.

 

“As though I ever have.”

 

He manages to deliver this ironic reply with more confidence than he truly possesses, and Thor smiles at him as he slips off into the darkness.

 

The rain starts in earnest once Loki is in position, and before he makes his move, he looks back and can only just make his brother out, waiting for his cue and staying low to the ground. There’s another clap of thunder then, and as Loki steps out into the path of a spotlight where the guards are sure to see him, he wonders if there might not be hope after all.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

A flash of lighting illuminates his brother just before he moves, and Thor can see that Loki is looking his way—but then he’s rising up out of his crouch and walking out into the light, head held high, right into the Midgardians’ line of sight.

 

“Good evening!” he hears Loki call out to them, and once their attention is secured, he follows his greeting with a vulgar insult that would absolutely appall their mother to hear, and bolts into the desert, the humans hot on his heels and shouting after him.

 

Loki has always been as quick on his feet as he is with his tongue, so Thor doesn’t spare too much concern for him just yet. Besides, Loki has a better chance coming through this unscathed than he does, and now that his opening is secured, it’s time for him to get started as well. He can feel that familiar charge under his skin, flowing through his veins… Mjolnir is close and calling out to him, and soon at least that loss will be set aright.  

 

The fence is scaled easily enough, and when another group of guards hurries past, communication devices crackling with news of the commotion Loki has started, he ducks into the shadows and waits for his path toward the center of the compound to clear. The parched ground is quickly turning to mud as the rain pours down, and Thor takes note of how the humans slide as they run, boots slipping, and hopes that it’s playing to Loki’s advantage as well.

 

There are people, not all of them soldiers, swarming through the translucent tunnels that must hide Mjolnir at their center, but if they can see him approach through the flimsy walls, they pay him no mind. That is, until he rips open a panel of plastic sheeting, climbs inside, and hears someone shout, “Stop right there!” behind him.

 

There are four guards that Thor can see, though the curve of the passageway blocks his view behind them, and he lets a grin settle on his face as he launches himself straight at them, taking them by surprise and leaving no opportunity for them to fire their weapons. The first two are handled quick and easy, still shocked at his attack, but the third gets him in a headlock from behind as he dispatches the others, and once again his feeble strength leaves him roaring in frustration as he struggles to get free.

 

“We need backup in here!” someone shouts even as more rush in, but Thor finds an opening and kicks his opponent’s knees out from under him. They are correct, he thinks then as the rage of battle begins to take over, but no matter what aid comes to their rescue, nothing will keep him from what is his.

 

When the last of them has either fallen or fled, Thor finally sees a familiar shape silhouetted through the tunnel wall—but then an enormous man looms up in front of him, blocking his path.

 

‘Backup’ has arrived it seems, and the man sends Thor to the ground with a powerful blow across the jaw that has him reeling for half an instant.

 

“You’re big,” he tells he tells his new challenger once he regains his bearings, grinning up at him and climbing back to his feet. But Thor had faced down dozens of frost giants not so long ago, so mortal or not, this human foe doesn’t frighten him one bit, and he adds, “Fought bigger.”

 

The first punch he throws hardly seems to affect the guard, and dismayed, Thor is caught around the waist before he can defend himself, and they both burst through the side of the tunnel into the mud outside. The fight devolves into an inelegant string of elbows and knees and unintelligible shouts, Thor soaked to the bone and furious to be kept from his goal, but eventually he gains the upper hand, gaining his footing while the guard loses his own, and at last, a sharp kick to the man’s face ends it.

 

There’s no one else to try and stop him now. So once he’s made sure that his foe is staying down, Thor climbs back into the structure, over the platform, and, finally, takes hold of Mjolnir’s handle.

 

The surge of power is there, just as always, resonating at his fingertips, but when he pulls, she will not budge.

 

 _No_ , he thinks, trying again with both hands. But the result is the same no matter how he shouts and tugs with all his might. Never has she denied him this way, and her judgement hurts more than any of his father’s words had.

 

Devastated and unworthy, he falls to his knees. He doesn’t resist when the soldiers close in.

 

———

———

 

The chase has been anything but merry, but Loki manages to lose his tail soon enough, and when he doubles back to the compound, climbs the fence, and drops down behind one of several large storage containers, he’s pleased to see that more guards are heading off into the desert in search of him as well, leaving fewer for his brother to deal with. Judging by the familiar bellow and the pained cries coming from the center of the compound, his brother is dealing with them just fine.

 

Still, it couldn’t hurt to start another small disruption on the other side and confuse the humans further, so Loki slips unseen between the crates and vehicles, all the way across the site and over the fence once more. But when he turns back to look for another suitable target, the basket suspended above the crash site catches his eye, along with the archer in it, bow drawn and arrow ready to fly.

 

“THOR!” he shouts, uselessly. His brother won’t hear him from here, he knows, but he’s back at the top of the fence with a leg swung over it before he can even begin to think of a plan, as though he could somehow get there fast enough to make a difference—but then, for some reason, the archer eases back and drops the arrow back into his quiver.

 

Loki is relieved, but instantly aware of how conspicuous he must be, and reassured that they won’t be shooting Thor dead right at this moment, he drops to the ground as quietly as he can and moves back out into the shadows of the desert to wait.

 

Minutes pass, each one grating at his patience, and when Thor still hasn’t emerged in a blast of thunder and lightning, his hammer held aloft, Loki begins to think that he would have preferred to not be right about this.

 

Then, once the rain stops, and the guards meander back to their posts, looking over shoulders and keeping fingers closer to triggers than before, it becomes clear that it’s over, and that Thor isn’t coming out at all, with or without Mjolnir.

 

———

 

 _“Oh my freaking god,”_ Jane hisses when Loki makes it back to the vehicle, soaking wet and muddy and exhausted, though still capable of stealth, it seems. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

 

“They must have taken him,” Loki says, ignoring her. “I’m going to have to go back in, but you should leave.”

 

“Nuh-uh, absolutely not. I saw the whole thing from up here, and there’s no way I’m letting both of you get caught by the feds.”

 

“I don’t plan to be caught.”

 

Jane glowers at him, and shoves him toward the open door with surprising vehemence. “Neither did Thor,” she says. “Just get in. We’re gonna get him out, but we need help.”

 

The contrast with her earlier reluctance gives him pause, and though he isn’t sure what sort of help she and her companions have to offer, he climbs into the vehicle anyway. Once they’re back on the road, he takes a good long look at her determined expression, illuminated by the soft green light of the instrument panel before her.

 

“What changed your mind?” he asks then, and Jane gives him a hesitant look before she turns back to the road.

 

“I don’t know,” she says. “But you two aren’t telling me everything, I know that much. And what happened back there…”

 

“What _did_ happen?”

 

“Nothing,” Jane sighs. “Nothing happened. For a minute, though, I thought it was gonna be something.”

 

———

 

The drive back to town seems to take much longer than the drive out to the crash site had, every moment passing another moment that Thor is held by this government agency that never would have stood a chance against their combined might two days ago. Loki hasn’t asked Jane what she thinks they might do with—or _to_ —his brother, but that’s mostly due to not wanting to think about it himself.

 

Selvig and Darcy are already waiting at the lab, and when Jane immediately launches into a rescue plan, Loki takes one look at Selvig’s face and decides to stay out of the way for the time being. The man obviously doesn’t like him or his brother, and though Loki has come to appreciate Jane’s persistence, he imagines she’ll have an easier time convincing the other two to help with him out of sight.

 

The small washroom seems like the safest choice, so while Selvig berates Jane for running off and putting herself in danger, he takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror, frowning at the mess of curls his hair has dried into, and uses the opportunity to wash the smears of dirt from his face. But when he turns off the tap, it seems the conversation outside has taken a very different turn.

 

“You can’t really believe this,” Selvig is saying. “They’re myths, children’s stories!”

 

“Yeah, well, you didn’t see what happened,” Jane fires back. “If that’s really an Einstein-Rosen Bridge, then there’s something on the other side, and advanced beings could have come through before.”

 

Loki isn’t sure if admitting who they are would complicate the situation further, or if dropping the pretense will make things simpler, but perhaps he can put that decision off a bit longer. Quietly, he slips to the back of the room, the other three too focused on each other to notice him.

 

“A primitive culture like the Vikings might have worshipped them as deities,” Darcy pipes up then, surprising them all, and Loki included. This one is sharper than she lets on, he thinks, remembering how she’d noticed that his and Thor’s dynamic wasn’t altogether brotherly.

 

(Not that they’ve ever been free to act on it—but that’s a frustration for another day, and he pushes it aside for the millionth time.)

 

“Exactly! Thank you.”

 

Selvig looks between the two women, and apparently sees that he’s lost this battle. “Fine,” he says, sighing. “Fine. But I don’t suppose either of you can hack the DMV database?”

 

———

———

 

The tavern is loud and crowded, but much like the mild interrogation he’d received at the hands of the Midgardian authorities, it’s all just meaningless background noise to Thor while he struggles to make sense of everything that’s happened.

 

The ale is substandard, but Selvig keeps waving the barkeep over with more, and so Thor keeps drinking it, ignoring the rowdy patrons around them. He’s grateful that the man had come to retrieve him (and had been even more grateful to find Loki waiting for him in the SUV), but he’s too overwhelmed with grief and guilt to talk just yet, so he leaves it up to Loki to make conversation.

 

For the first time in his life, Thor has found himself without direction, without any idea of what he should be doing. Never did he believe that he would actually be stuck here on Midgard; he was sure that he’d find some way home from the start. It’s true that he hadn’t thought too far past retrieving Mjolnir, but now that that’s impossible, he has nothing… not even the barest notion of a plan.

 

Their basic needs will be most pressing, somewhere to sleep and food to eat, but what will they do long term? And what does ‘long term’ even mean now that they’re cut off from Asgard and powerless? They might only have decades left before them, he realizes with a sudden jolt. They could die of old age here in a matter of years, while Asgard faces another war, thanks to him, and without him or Loki there to help and an overdue Odinsleep that could incapacitate their father at any time.

 

He sees Loki watching him now out of the corner of his eye while he brushes off Selvig’s increasingly inebriated questions about mythology, worry plain on his face though neither of them have said a word about what happened. He doesn’t deserve his brother’s concern or love, not after what he’s done, but, thankfully, it seems that he has them all the same, even though it may take time for Loki to truly forgive him.

 

And maybe once he does…

 

They’re so far from home now and all of the reasons why they’ve never been able to be more… maybe they have a new opportunity for the first time in their lives. No one here knows they’re brothers, he realizes with a rush, aside from Jane, Darcy, and Selvig—

 

—who is going to meet an untimely, bloody end in the next few moments, Thor suddenly notices, if Loki’s expression is anything to go by.

 

“… but _seriously_ , Loki, myths have origins,” Selvig is saying, waving a bottle around and sloshing beer on the floor. “They have to come from somewhere, so if you’re— _hic_ —really the _real_ Loki, then what’s the deal with the _horse_?”

 

It’s an unfortunate choice on Selvig’s part, though Thor is old and wise enough to know that his own amusement must be kept hidden at all costs. No one seems to know how the ancient rumor had gotten started (especially since their father had been riding Sleipnir into battle well before either of them had been born), and it had died off ages ago back home, but it seems Midgard has a longer memory than he’d thought.

 

“Time to go, wouldn’t you say?” he interjects before Loki can make good on his nonverbal threat, standing and clapping both of them on the shoulders. When that little contact is enough to send Selvig sprawling, he sighs and adds, “Definitely time to go.”

 

———

 

Jane had still been awake despite the late—or early—hour, and after Thor had deposited Selvig safely indoors to sleep off his long evening, she’d excused herself to go find someplace in the lab for Thor and Loki to bed down for the night. Thor doesn’t know what an ‘air mattress’ might be, but at this point, he’d be content with a clean patch of floor, and assures her it will suffice, so she points them up to the roof, where she’ll no doubt wish to corner them with a dozen questions after she’s finished inside.

 

There’s kindling and matches next to the little fire pit, so while Loki stretches out on a long, low chair, Thor gets a fire going, and eventually settles in the chair opposite him.

 

He’s noticed how closely Loki is still watching him, and the way that he pretends he isn’t when he sees that Thor is looking, but Loki hasn’t pressed him about what had happened in the compound, apparently meaning to let Thor to bring it up in his own time. And though he does plan to tell Loki everything, he knows Jane will be here soon, so he waits, and tries to think of a way to broach the other, _new_ subject once he has an opportunity. He can’t rush it, he knows, but they’ve waited centuries already, and now that he sees this possibility, he’s already having trouble keeping it to himself. He just hopes that years of denial haven’t become too much of a habit for both of them to break. Especially not when they have far less time left to them.

 

The fire is high and crackling by the time Jane joins them, and before Thor can stand and offer her his chair, Loki beats him to it.

 

“Oh no, you don’t have to get up,” she protests, but Loki’s already on his feet.

 

“I insist. It _is_ your chair, after all.”

 

“Okay, well, thanks,” she says, sitting down, then cuts a glance in Thor’s direction before adding, “You could, uh, go on downstairs if you want, Loki. It’s all set up. It’s not five star, but it’ll work.”

 

“I’m quite alright,” he says, smiling as he steps around the fire, and gives Thor a nudge before he plops down right next to him. The chair gives an ominous creak under their combined weight, but holds. “We don’t mind sharing. Do we, Thor?”

 

Thor would be lying if he said that he did, what with the way Loki is pressed into his side, and he also has to admit that this little possessive display is rather encouraging—for him at least. Jane, however, only looks very confused and slightly disappointed, which is unfortunate considering how kind she’s been to them. She deserves more than he can offer her… but he can at least start with her journal, pocketed as he’d left SHIELD custody with Selvig.

 

“I don’t believe it,” she says as he hands it over, and her expression instantly brightens. “I don’t have to start from scratch now!”

 

The eager shine is back in her eyes, which he’s pleased to see. It’s likely best to leave off on that positive note, though, so he says, “And in the morning, you may ask all the questions that you can think of. It’s been a very long day, for all of us, and I don’t want to keep you up any longer.”

 

Jane hesitates, but then Loki adds, “First thing in the morning, Jane Foster. Not to worry. We can start wherever you like. But please, get some rest now.”

 

After a moment, she nods reluctantly, and gets up.

 

“First thing,” she says. “I’ll be in my trail—well, no. Erik’s in there. I’ll be at Darcy’s down the street then.”

 

Both of them wish her a good night as she disappears back down the stairs, and then they’re alone once more.

 

———

———

 

The brief conversation they’ve just had with Jane on the roof is the most his brother has spoken since they left the crash site hours ago, and so once she’s gone, Loki expects the silence to resume and to continue for at least a little while longer.

 

It’s quite a surprise then that Thor turns to him the moment Jane is out of earshot and says, “I know it’s late, brother, and you haven’t rested all this time, but may I speak with you?”

 

Loki had hardly slept the night before the coronation, and that had been two days ago, with all that had happened in between. But something had turned Thor’s quiet, devastated look into this anxious fidgeting around the time they’d left the tavern carrying Selvig between them, and Loki means to find out what it is, so he nods and says, “If you’ll tell me what happened.”

 

“Mjolnir deemed me unworthy, as you must already know,” Thor says with a sigh, and looks down at his hands.

 

“And the humans?”

 

“They questioned me, but I said nothing. I suppose I was still in denial about what had happened… but not any longer.”

 

Thor looks back up at him then, regret plain on his face.

 

“I understand now how blind I’ve been,” he continues, “and for how long. Loki, I can never say how truly sorry I am to have brought you low with me, to have stranded us here this way.”

 

“You can’t take all the blame,” Loki starts without any idea of what to say next, but Thor cuts him off.

 

“I can take more than enough,” he says. “If it hadn’t been for my pride and my arrogance, neither of us would have gone to Jotunheim, and neither of us would be here now.”

 

And Loki would still be blissfully ignorant of what he might be—but he can’t even admit that to himself, much less Thor, and his stomach gives an awful lurch when he imagines how his brother would look at him if he knew. No, he can’t tell him that.

 

What he _should_ tell Thor is how much of that blame rests on his own shoulders instead of letting him bear all the guilt by himself, but Thor is looking at him so earnestly and intensely now, and Loki can’t seem to find the words to admit what he’s done.

 

And then when Thor asks him, “After all I’ve done, brother, could you still love me?” Loki knows he won’t be confessing his sins tonight. He can’t.

 

“I told you,” he says instead. “Never doubt.”

 

He meant it when he’d said it the first time, even while the frost giants were slipping into Asgard through the rift that he had shown them. Thor wasn’t ready for the throne (and Loki still believes that), but Loki has always loved him, regardless, and now this new, thoughtful, humbled Thor he loves even more.

 

They’re still sitting so close, and usually by now one of them would have smiled, made a joke, and pulled away, knowing all the reasons why they can’t let it go on. But Thor isn’t backing down, and Loki can feel his breath on his lips, his beard rough against his cheek—and then they’re _kissing_ , after all these centuries and all the denial, and despite the taste of Midgardian beer on his brother’s lips and the press of his nose into Loki’s cheek, cold in the winter air, he can’t quite find it in himself to believe it’s really happening.

 

He pulls away, and Thor follows him for half a second before stopping. He’s breathing hard, looking at Loki like he can’t believe it either, but then his gaze drops back to Loki’s mouth, and he licks his lips—and Loki decides then and there that, real or not, he’s going to believe it regardless.

 

The quiet little gasp that Thor lets out when he dives back in is something that he’ll remember until his dying day, he’s sure. It hardly takes an instant for Thor to respond, kissing back and reaching up to cup Loki’s face in his hands, and the rush of it all goes straight to Loki’s head, leaving him half-dizzy and greedy for more.

 

It’s barely a conscious choice to climb into Thor’s lap then, but he’s quite glad he did when his brother gives him the most devastating groan. The chair groans as well, but that hardly registers, because Thor is easing back into the cushion, pulling Loki down with him, hands eagerly roaming over his back—and lower, Loki choking out a curse when Thor gets a firm hold on his ass and hauls him in even closer.

 

Loki can admit to having imagined what their first time together might be like, despite never expecting it to actually happen, but with his hands fisted in the front of Thor’s shirt and his tongue in his mouth, everything he’s ever thought of doing or having done to him seems secondary compared to just getting his hands on Thor’s skin. And for a moment, he does, sliding them up and under the back of Thor’s shirt—

 

But then Thor yelps and jerks—and the chair gives one last grating screech and collapses beneath them, bringing them crashing down along with it.

 

“What in the _Nine_ ,” Loki says, bewildered, but Thor starts to laugh, even as he rubs his mouth where it had made rather forceful contact with Loki’s forehead upon landing.

 

“Your hands are _freezing_!” he says, as though that’s an adequate excuse for what he’s done.

 

Loki intends to berate him for it, but a yawn takes him by surprise before he can, and he’s suddenly aware of just how exhausted he is (and just how comfortable Thor is beneath him).

 

With a sigh, Thor looks up at him regretfully and says, “Perhaps we ought to go inside… before we break any more of Jane’s furniture.”

 

He’s right, but Loki grins at him anyway and leans in for one last kiss. “Too bad,” he says against Thor’s lips. “We could have found a way to make the other chair last longer, I’m sure.”

 

“Hush,” Thor says with a frustrated groan, reluctantly pushing him away, “before I change my mind.”

 

———

 

It takes longer than it should, thanks to a dozen unnecessary stolen touches and promise-laden looks, but eventually they prop the broken chair up as best they can and make their way down to the lab. The ‘air mattress’ lives up to its name, they find, and since it’s much too narrow for both of them, Jane has also left a pillow and blanket on the sofa, which Loki volunteers to take.

 

Loki is both relieved and disappointed that they’ll be sleeping apart, but then Thor drags the mattress over to the sofa, just to be closer, and reaches up to give Loki’s hand a squeeze once he’s settled in.

 

There’s enough on his mind to keep him up for several days more, Loki thinks, preparing himself for restless night. But the moment his head touches the pillow, he falls asleep with Thor still holding onto his hand.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEAUTIFUL AMAZING ART TO ACCOMPANY THIS CHAPTER BY SPACEHUSSY [HERE](https://spacehussy.tumblr.com/post/179902408255/and-then-when-thor-asks-him-after-all-ive-done)
> 
> Praise her with great praise!


	3. Chapter 3

Judging by the slant of the sunlight pouring in, it’s well past ‘first thing in the morning,’ Thor thinks when he wakes. But the lab is empty, apart from the two of them, so it seems they’re not the only ones who have slept through half the day.

 

His makeshift bed has flattened somewhat overnight, and when he rolls over and sits up, it squeaks loudly enough to have Loki grumbling and turning over on the couch above him, still half asleep. It served well enough for one night, but they’re going to have to find somewhere else to sleep, and soon, for the sake of his back.

 

(And the sake of the air mattress—had they been less exhausted, nothing would have stopped him from spreading Loki out on it last night, and he’s not certain that it would have withstood the resolution of several centuries’ worth of pent-up desire between them.)

 

Thor climbs to his feet, feeling every hit he had taken at the SHIELD compound more now than he had receiving them in the first place, and ignores his protesting back as he bends down to press his lips to Loki’s temple. He’s given a muffled _mmph_ in response, and, smiling, he pushes the hair out of his brother’s face and lets him be.

 

Despite the fact that Jane had called it a ‘bathroom’ yesterday, there’s no bath and no shower, so after Thor relieves himself, he peels off his mud-splattered shirt and makes do with splashing his face and underarms at the sink instead. The rain had washed the majority of the grime from his hair and face, but there’s still plenty dried onto his skin elsewhere, and he scrubs it off as best he can without making a mess of the place… which is difficult when he has to push his trousers down and out of the way to take care of the mud that’s insinuated itself into some rather delicate areas.

 

He’s just finishing up when the door is suddenly flung wide open, and Loki ignores his startled exclamation, saying, “Oh look—just in time,” and pulling the door shut behind him.

 

“For what…?” Thor asks, backing up to make room for him and reaching for the waistband of his jeans, but he doesn’t get far.

 

“To wish you a good morning,” Loki says, then crowds him up against the wall in an instant, his mouth on Thor’s and his hands enthusiastically exploring his bare sides and stomach—warm this morning, Thor notes, grinning into the kiss.

 

“I believe it may be afternoon, but good morning to you, too,” he says when they part, taking in his brother’s mussed hair and the contented look on his face. But then Loki’s soft little smile tips into a smirk, and Thor knows him well enough to be slightly fearful.

 

“Hmm. It’s about to get better,” Loki tells him, and then sinks to his knees.

 

Thor hisses out a curse.

 

There’s no disguising his immediate arousal with his jeans halfway down his thighs, and Loki seems to take it as the wholehearted encouragement it most certainly is, wrapping a hand around his cock and coaxing an inarticulate moan out of him—and another, louder, when Loki’s tongue joins in. Thor braces himself against the wall, and he’s glad of it a moment later, since his brother has closed his lips around the head and started to suck in earnest.

 

Wherever this rather affectionate greeting came from, Thor knows it’s going to end sooner than he would like, but it’s going to be very soon indeed if Loki keeps up his eager pace. Something in the unsteady way he says his brother’s name must get the message across, though, because Loki eases off, moving downward to mouth at his balls, which is only slightly less overwhelming. His hand hasn’t given up yet, though, and a swipe of his thumb over the head of his cock has Thor swearing again and grabbing ahold of the sink for support.

 

He spots his own face in the mirror then, out of the corner of his eye, flushed and embarrassingly desperate, and he looks away—only to see the second, full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, and more importantly, the view it provides.

 

Loki’s eyes are half-closed, his brows furrowed as he applies his lips and tongue with intent, and as Thor watches that long, pale hand stroke him closer and closer to completion, a bead of slick wells up at the tip of his cock and falls, leaving a glistening trail across Loki’s cheek. And if that sight isn’t devastating enough, Thor drops his gaze lower and lets out a groan when he sees that Loki’s got a hand on his own cock as well, jerking himself rough and fast and just as desperate as Thor feels watching him do it.

 

It’s entirely too much when Loki returns his attentions to Thor’s cock, swallowing him nearly whole and hollowing his cheeks as he sucks.

 

 _“Brother,”_ Thor warns him, feeling his climax coming on, uncaring of the whining tone his voice has taken on, but Loki ignores him and hums around his length instead, tipping him right over the edge. He spills down his brother’s throat with a shout he can’t seem to hold back, knuckles white where he grips the sink, and when Loki pulls off, panting open-mouthed with remnants of Thor’s spend clearly visible on his tongue, he has to hold on a little tighter to stay upright.

 

He means to haul Loki out of the floor then, swap their positions, and return the favor with enthusiasm, but before he can, Loki digs his nails into Thor’s hip and comes, gasping and spilling over his fist and his clothes and the floor. Thor lets him have a moment to catch his breath, but then he does pull Loki to his feet, and drags him in close, wrapping his arms around him and kissing the taste of himself out of Loki’s mouth.

 

“Definitely better,” Loki says, pulling away some time later and looking pleased with himself, but Thor is quite pleased with him, too, so he just grins and leans in for another kiss—

 

—right as muffled voices and the bang of the front door interrupt. Before Thor can react, Loki lets out an aggravated huff, jerks Thor’s jeans up over his bare ass and fastens them (the speed with which he zips them is mildly terrifying, but Thor’s still sensitive nether regions make it through unscathed), and shoves him out of the bathroom, shirtless and dazed from his orgasm. The door slams shut after him, and he’s still gaping at it when Darcy rounds the corner.

 

“Hello to you, too,” she says, looking him over appreciatively. “Am I gonna get to see this every day, or…?”

 

He’s saved having to reply to that when the bathroom door is cracked open, and his t-shirt is flung at his head. Loki’s scowl is visible for a half a second before he shuts the door again, and when Thor sees Darcy’s bewildered expression, he gives her his best reassuring grin.

 

“Yeah, okay, that’s normal,” she mutters, walking away.

  


———

  


A very late breakfast is prepared, Selvig is retrieved, bleary-eyed and clutching his head, and finally, the five of them sit down to eat, all yawning and quiet, but at least the silence is companionable.

 

Thor keeps looking at Loki across the table, unable to keep the smile from his face, but Loki himself is in an unusually good mood as well, and had even volunteered to help Jane with the meal preparation to her surprise. Darcy has been eyeing them both curiously, he’s noticed, but whatever her thoughts may be, she’s keeping them to herself.

 

“I believe you had some questions for us,” Loki says to Jane once everyone’s finished eating, and she holds up one finger and dashes off to collect her notebook.

 

Her eyes are bright when she returns, and after she flips to a blank page, she fixes intense brown eyes on Thor and asks, “Okay. What was it like? In that cloud?”

 

“It’s pure energy,” he says after pondering it for a moment, “and light. I’ve always found it exhilarating.”

 

“‘Always,’” Jane repeats. “This wasn’t new for you.”

 

“No.”

 

“And did you come in the same way?” she asks Loki.

 

“I did, though I wasn’t conscious at the time.”

 

That’s news to Thor, but Loki ignores his dismayed expression, focusing on Jane instead.

 

“We call it an Einstein-Rosen Bridge,” she says. “I’m guessing you have a name for it, too?”

 

“Of course,” Loki replies. “But Dr. Selvig won’t like it.”

 

Selvig sighs in frustration and leans back from the table. “Let me guess,” he says, “‘Bifrost?’”

 

The grin that Loki gives him isn’t well-received.

 

“So is this Bifrost naturally occurring, or…?”

 

Thor answers this one to keep his brother from antagonizing Selvig any further, saying, “It is not. And I’m not certain how it was first created, to be honest.”

 

“Can it be controlled?” Jane asks.

 

“Not by either of us.”

 

“Right,” she says, tapping her pen on the table. “Otherwise you wouldn’t still be here.”

 

Apologetic, Thor shakes his head.

 

“So we don’t know how it was created. Do we know how it works?”

 

“Theoretically,” Loki tells her, then tilts his head and asks, “How would _you_ say it works, Jane Foster?”

 

She seems surprised by the question, but doesn’t hesitate before answering, “An Einstein-Rosen Bridge is a theoretical connection between two different points of space-time. It’s a wormhole. As far as how to make one… it would take an enormous amount of energy to open it, and exotic matter to stabilize it.”

 

“Forgive me—when you say ‘exotic matter’…”

 

“Matter with negative energy density. Repelled by gravity instead of being attracted by it.”

 

While Thor is impressed with how far Midgardians have come, his appreciation for Jane’s cleverness doesn’t seem to compare to Loki’s, since his brother brightens more and more with every word she says.

 

“You’re very near the mark, if I understand you correctly,” he tells her. “We have different words for things, but—”

 

“Like ‘magic?’” Selvig interrupts.

 

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact. But I do believe you’re on the right track.”

 

Jane nods, then sobers once more as she holds up her notebook. “I _was_ ,” she says. “Now all I have is this.”

 

“Perhaps not,” Loki says. “We can help you, if you’ll allow it. We could stay here and assist with your research.”

 

There’s silence for a moment, and then Selvig and Darcy start talking at once.

 

“Absolutely not—”

 

“I get my own interns!”

 

But Thor holds his tongue, and stares at his brother curiously. It’s not as though Loki is usually rude or unsociable, but he hadn’t expected this level of helpfulness, especially not toward Jane with her obvious regard for Thor.

 

(Then again, he’s sure Loki is feeling very secure in his affections now, as well he should, and always has been. At any rate, all the evidence of what had happened in the bathroom may be gone, but Thor hasn’t forgotten the quiet little sounds Loki had made as he came, and he means to draw more from him as soon as the opportunity presents itself.)

 

But he had also imagined that they would move on soon, find somewhere to settle on their own and not impose upon Jane’s hospitality any longer. Granted, they haven’t actually discussed the matter yet, but the idea that Loki would want to stay for no reason other than to be of use in Jane’s work doesn’t seem likely. He must think that their Midgardian hosts will be of use as well, so Thor decides to go along with it for now, knowing that Loki will no doubt share his plans later on, once they’re alone.

 

(And have seen to other, more pressing matters first.)

 

“You’re already so close,” Loki adds, his voice taking on that warm, persuasive tone that Thor has heard a thousand times, usually right before they find their way into some variety of trouble. “Let us help you get there. It would take years to catch up to where you were without your data and equipment, correct?”

 

“At least,” Jane admits, and Thor can see that she’s already convinced. “But I have to ask… Are you… you know… really, _actually_ —”

 

“Do not answer that,” Selvig interjects, pointing a stern finger at Loki and frowning at Jane. “I don’t want to know. If you’re set on this, Jane, I won’t stop you. But I do _not_ want to hear the answer to that question, whatever it is.”

 

“Fine,” Jane says, then gives them a hesitant smile. “I accept. But, uh, this wouldn’t be a highly-paid position.”

 

“It won’t even be a low-paid position,” Darcy stage whispers over the table.

 

“You can’t really sleep in the lab long term either… But you help me, and I’ll see about covering a motel room with my grant. For a little while, at least. Deal?”

 

Loki nods, and says, “Deal.”

 

“Can the grant money also cover some new clothes?” Darcy asks, after a beat. “I swear to god, the leather pants are a distraction.”

  


———

———

  


Loki has stayed in less hospitable inns, but they have been few. Still, it’s free, and the beds are more comfortable than Jane’s sofa had been, so it will serve, he supposes.

 

(The sign in front had alarmed him at first, reading _LOW MONTHLY RAT S_ , but then he’d seen the _E_ , unlit but present, and had understood.)

 

Their new belongings are in plastic bags on the tiny dining table, so while Thor bathes, Loki busies himself with removing the little paper tags and stickers from their jeans and t-shirts and jackets, and dropping them into drawers, along with two packages of undergarments that Darcy had selected for them (“Boxer-briefs, trust me,” she’d said, and so they had).

 

She’d also recommended soap and shampoo, which Thor had taken into the bathroom with him, but there’s a little tube at the bottom of one bag that Loki had spotted an aisle over and inconspicuously dropped into their shopping cart without consulting her. _K-Y_ hadn’t translated, but _personal lubricant_ was clear enough, and he sets it on the nightstand between the beds for easy access.

 

He’s lining up a row of toothbrushes and toothpaste and deodorant (‘non-douchey’ fragrance chosen, of course, by Darcy) next to the sink outside the bathroom, just to have something to do, when Thor finally emerges in a towel and a puff of steam.

 

“All yours,” he says, dripping all over the floor, and it’s only thanks to several hundred years’ practice that Loki is able to resist the urge to lick away the drops of water sliding over his collarbone and down his chest. He sidesteps Thor instead, and heads into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

 

(It’s not as though he _couldn’t_ now, he thinks, and the thought that he really _shouldn’t_ doesn’t bother him in the slightest. He’s in dire need of a shower first, that’s all.)

 

Thor is waiting on one of the beds when he’s finished, hair soaking the pillow and towel gaping open where his thighs are parted, and the calm, casual exterior that Loki had adopted before leaving the bathroom in his own towel is all for nothing when he sees the hungry look on his brother’s face. It’s not the first time he’s noticed it there, but it _is_ the first time that Thor’s made no attempt to hide it, and whatever plans Loki had made for how this would play out are immediately forgotten.

 

After his little show of greedy impatience back at the lab earlier, however, he really shouldn’t be too surprised at himself.

 

But Thor seems just as desperate, and he’s met with an equal amount of enthusiasm, Thor dragging him down the moment he’s within reach, rolling them halfway across the bed, and tangling their legs while he kisses him into the mattress. Loki can think of nothing for several long minutes but Thor’s warm weight on top of him and the press of his erection against his own, how his brother’s beard chafes against his skin when he bends down to lick and suck and bite at his throat. But then Thor shifts his hips, and the way the head of his cock drags over the crease of Loki’s ass has him choking out a moan and unable to wait a moment longer.

 

“ _Ah_ , Loki—please,” Thor says, breath tickling his ear, but there is absolutely _no_ need for him to beg.

 

He shoves Thor up and off so he can roll onto his stomach and reach for the lube, though he’s momentarily distracted when his thighs are spread apart, Thor settling between them and leaving an absurdly chaste kiss at his tailbone—but then his tongue in Loki’s ass is decidedly less innocent.

 

 _“Nnnggh,”_ Loki says, as eloquently as he can, pushing back into his brother’s face, desperate for more. And Thor seems content to stay where he is, for a little while at least, but once he works a finger in alongside his tongue, Loki bites hard on his lip and nearly knocks the little tube into the floor in his haste to grab hold of it.

 

He hits Thor in the head accidentally, pitching it over his shoulder, and receives a retaliatory (but gentle) bite on the inside of his thigh in return, and then it doesn’t take long before he’s up on his hands and knees, panting raggedly while Thor eases into him. More preparation wouldn’t have gone amiss, but Loki relishes the burn and the stretch, and the way Thor’s fingers dig into his hips as he sinks all the way home.

 

After half a moment’s pause for him to adjust, Thor starts to move, slow and careful at first, but steadily picking up his pace. Despite his impatience, Loki can’t be bothered to do anything more than rock back to meet each thrust for a good long while, enjoying the feeling of Thor inside him too much to think of anything else.

 

But then Thor’s hand on his cock takes him by surprise, still slick with lube, and he has to drop to his elbows and press his face into the sheets to keep from crying out… but then he does so anyway, thanks to the new angle and his brother’s fingers and thrusts working together to drive him mad.

 

“Will you come for me?” Thor asks, quietly, but not enough to hide the rough edge his voice has taken on.

 

There’s no doubt of it, Loki knows, especially not with the way Thor’s driving into him now. He can feel it building up fast, and when Thor bends down to press his forehead between Loki’s shoulder blades, half-sighing, “Brother,” the reality of the situation and his orgasm strike him all at once, and he chokes out what’s nearly a sob and gives into it.

 

Thor is still draped over him when he can think rationally again, bracing himself with his arms on either side of Loki as he chases after his own climax, his rhythm faltering, and Loki reaches for one of his hands, needing something to hold onto.

 

“I never thought,” Thor mutters to himself, sounding as just as shaken as Loki feels, and though he doesn’t finish, Loki understands, and he squeezes back when Thor laces their fingers together. He hadn’t believed they could have this either, but they do, and he closes his eyes and grinds back into Thor, urging him on.

 

His brother buries himself deep and comes not long after, breathing harshly into the back of his neck, and as soon as Thor catches his breath and carefully pulls out, Loki sinks to the bed, his legs too wobbly and unsteady to hold him up any longer. He’s laying in his own spend, but he can’t bring himself to care.

 

“Stay there,” Thor tells him (pointlessly—he isn’t going anywhere), and leans over the edge of the mattress for one of their discarded towels. Loki lets him wipe the slick and come from his ass and his thighs, and after Thor settles in beside him, absently petting at his hair and shoulders and back, he drops off.

  


———

  


“Your offer was unexpected,” Thor tells him later that night, after they’d woken up sticky and sweaty and managed to turn off the overzealous heating unit before they roasted. “I didn’t think you would want to stay here, much less help Jane.”

 

Loki looks down at him where he’s sprawled across the bed, feet dangling over the edge, and sees that Thor’s wearing his _what have you gotten us into_ face.

 

“Did you have something else in mind?” he asks, and Thor gives him a shrug.

 

“Nothing certain. But I thought we might find somewhere else to go, where no one knows us. We could start over.”

 

“No one knows us _here_ , Thor. Not really.”

 

“They know we’re brothers,” Thor says, and Loki sees what he’s getting at. Personally, he’s not sure he cares what any human thinks of them, but then it would be rather difficult to continue working with Jane and Darcy and Selvig if they knew what sort of unbrotherly direction their relationship had taken. It isn’t likely that they would be able to overlook that.

 

“Then we keep this to ourselves,” he says, gesturing between them, both still nude and the sheets mussed.

 

There’s a hint of disappointment in Thor’s eyes, and he rolls onto his side and props himself up on an elbow. “I’d hoped we could find some way to be open, be ourselves finally,” he confesses. “Since we’re stuck here. We’ve waited long enough.”

 

That much is true, Loki thinks, but if all goes as planned, soon it won’t be a problem.

 

“How much longer can you wait?” he asks, and Thor frowns up at him.   

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“We may not have to stay on Midgard.”

 

Thor understands quickly, sitting up to look him in the face and saying, “That’s why you’re helping Jane. You think she can summon the Bifrost.”

 

“Or reproduce its effects. I don’t doubt she could in ten, fifteen years. With our help, we might manage it in one… maybe even sooner.”

 

“But, brother, we can’t return to Asgard.”

 

Perhaps Thor could, someday. Before Loki had been banished, he had meant to try and bring his brother back, and was sure that he could accomplish it in time. But he knows that as long as Odin remains on the throne, it isn’t likely that he’d ever be welcomed back himself.

 

“Then we don’t,” he says, shaking off the homesickness and longing. “We could go anywhere we please. Any world. And maybe if we kept to ourselves, it may not even need to be somewhere outside the Nine Realms. Surely we could find some quiet village on Vanaheim where no one would recognize us.”

 

And maybe they could even see their mother again… Just because Loki can’t go to Asgard doesn’t mean Frigga can’t visit her own home world from time to time. He’s sure she would agree to see him, if he could find a way to contact her without the Allfather knowing.

 

Thor mulls it over for a moment, but eventually says, “Somehow I feel like this is using Jane to suit our own needs,” and holds up a hand to stop Loki from interrupting. “I know, she’s furthering her own interests as well, and that’s why I won’t complain about it again. But we ought to tell her that we mean to leave when it’s possible.”

 

Loki doesn’t argue with that, and once it’s settled, Thor stands and stretches while Loki admires the play of muscles under the skin of his back, the roundness of his ass, the fine golden hairs on his thighs.

 

“One year,” Thor sighs, then turns back toward him. “We won’t be able to stay in this motel the entire time, however.”

 

Arching an eyebrow, Loki asks, “What makes you say that?”

 

There’s a sly sort of grin on Thor’s face as he climbs back onto the bed, crawling across it until he’s in Loki’s space and hovering over him. “The innkeepers will eventually tire of broken beds, brother,” he says, and angles down for a kiss.  

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

They don’t actually break either of the beds in their temporary home, not even after two months have gone by, though it isn’t for a lack of trying. Making up for a few hundred years’ worth of lost time keeps them well-occupied outside of working hours at the lab… and every so often _during_ working hours at the lab. 

 

(Loki still thinks fondly of the afternoon Thor had dragged him into the bathroom for a repeat performance of that first morning while Jane, Darcy, and Selvig had stepped out for lunch.)

 

But the actual work keeps them busy long into the evenings as well, especially once a SHIELD agent turns up the second week with Jane’s laptop. After demanding the rest of her equipment without any success, she teaches Loki to use the computer (an experience that probably eliminated any doubt that they might just be odd and foreign, judging by her incredulous looks at some of his questions), and on the nights when she throws her hands up and retreats to her trailer in frustration, he takes it back with him to the motel and keeps Thor up well into the morning hours with the glow from the screen and the constant clatter of the keyboard. 

 

(And there had also been one memorable occasion when Jane had rapped on their door in the middle of the night, shouting that she’d woken up with a fresh take and leaving them scrambling for their clothes and attempting to make the spare bed look slept in.)

 

But although they’re making a bit of progress, Loki is beginning to think that he’d overestimated their abilities. Jane is clever, that much is certain, but it’s becoming clearer every day how far Midgard is behind, technologically speaking. They may have the theory of it down by the time the year is up, but Loki is growing more and more concerned that they may not have the practical means to reproduce the Bifrost’s effect for decades. 

 

He and Jane are alone at the lab today, both exhausted, worn down, and slumped over the dining table after a long, unproductive afternoon, and sighing, Jane leans over to rest her cheek against the table. 

 

“I don’t suppose you want to go over the particle data again,” she says, voice muffled, and Loki shakes his head. 

 

“You suppose correctly.”

 

The silence stretches for a little while, and Loki’s just about to recommend a halt for the day when Jane speaks up again. 

 

“What’s on the other side of this for you?” she asks, and when he just stares, she sits up straight again. “What’s the destination? Home?”

 

It could be for Thor, Loki thinks, if he were only selfless enough to send him back alone. Surely by the time they accomplish this, Odin would take his firstborn back. But he isn’t. He hasn’t even told Thor the truth yet, and on some unconscious level, he’s already decided to get them off-world first, as though that accomplishment will lessen the blow. 

 

“No,” he says. “That’s out of reach, no matter how successful we are. But closer to it.”

 

Jane nods, and before she can come up with another difficult question, Loki takes the opportunity to excuse himself.

 

The splash of water in his face does nothing to alleviate his frustrations or spark any sort of inspiration, nor does staring at his reflection in the mirror over the bathroom sink. But Loki does so anyway, noticing how long his hair has grown, and rolling his eyes at the ridiculous, stylized emblem on his t-shirt ( _P.A.H.S. VIKINGS_ , it reads; Thor had brought it back from the shop last week, thinking it hilarious). 

 

It also does no good for him to wonder how all of this might have turned out if Odin hadn’t stripped him of his power. Despite the fact that Mjolnir remains in the desert, SHIELD agents swarming about, Thor had still had some degree of influence on the weather patterns when they were close. If only there were still some shred of magic left in Loki as well… 

 

But then Odin hadn’t exactly ripped it from him cleanly, had he?

 

Loki hasn’t tried since he woke in the desert, but what if he just hadn’t looked deep enough? How absurd would it be if he still possessed a remnant of his seidr after all this time, he thinks, and never found it for fear of what else he might find within himself?

 

With a deep breath, Loki steadies himself, holding onto the edges of the sink, and closes his eyes. And once again, he finds nothing deep down but the empty and the dark and the cold, but this time, he resists the urge to shy away from it. If he can accept it, perhaps he can use it… so he steels himself, dives in, and finds the ice beneath it. 

 

He can feel the sink frosting over beneath his fingertips, hear a crackling sound as the ice spreads. But this feels nothing like seidr, he thinks, confused, and opens his eyes. 

 

Loki’s hands are blue, his nails dark, and the color is spreading up his arms, leaving raised lines across his skin in its wake. He hardly has time to notice how warm he’s begun to feel before it begins to creep over his chest and up above the collar of his shirt, and as he watches in the mirror, too stunned to move, it comes up his neck and over his jaw, his cheeks, his nose—

 

When his eyes turn red, Loki lets go, barely aware of his own horrified cry.

 

His skin fades almost immediately. The sink is still frozen over, however, and he can recall the lines at the corners of his eyes, over his chin, down his arms and hands perfectly. There’s no doubt of it now, he knows, no denying what he is any longer, and he could almost laugh at the dismayed look on his face in the mirror. He should have known. It all makes sense now.

 

“Loki?”

 

Thor’s voice on the other side of the door startles him almost as badly as the sight of his own face had.

 

“Brother, are you well?” Thor asks, knocking, and Loki takes a few steadying breaths and schools his expression before he opens the door.

 

“What do you mean, ‘am I well?’” he says, forcing an annoyed glare in Thor’s direction. He nearly buckles when he sees the concern on his brother’s face, but he manages to hold it together, just barely. 

 

“I heard a shout. What’s wrong?”

 

Loki huffs and shakes his head. “Just another long day with little to show for it,” he says, and though Thor doesn’t quite seem convinced, he doesn’t press the matter.

 

“Amen to that,” Jane sighs from her spot at the table. “I’m calling it. Why don’t you guys head back, and we’ll try again tomorrow.” 

 

“Excellent idea,” Loki says, and doesn’t wait for Thor to agree before he gathers up his notes and heads for the door.

 

 

———

———

 

 

Thor has never been very patient, but this evening, he’s giving new meaning to the word. 

 

_“Aaah,”_ Loki gasps again, digging his nails into Thor’s arms and his heels into his ass, so Thor makes sure to angle his next thrust accordingly. 

 

They’ve been at this for some time now, though the tremble in his brother’s thighs where they’re wrapped around his waist makes him think it won’t be much longer. He won’t last a moment more himself if he doesn’t look away from Loki beneath him, looking thoroughly ravished with his shirt rucked up under his chin to show all the marks Thor had left across his chest and down his stomach about an hour ago and the remnants of Loki’s first and second orgasms of the night drying on his skin. The slick, tight heat of him around Thor’s cock is wearing him down enough on its own without the visual help, anyway.

 

Whatever had happened at the lab, Loki’s distant mood had evaporated as soon as Thor had talked him into lying back and letting him do something about that pent-up frustration. And since he’s pulling Thor down by the neck for a clumsy, open-mouthed kiss, Thor thinks he can consider his attentions quite successful so far. 

 

But his control is starting to waver now, and Loki’s shuddering breaths are sounding ever more urgent, so Thor pulls up far enough to get a hand in between them, and barely touches Loki’s cock before he’s coming for the third time, crying out and clawing at Thor’s back. Thor follows him over the edge almost immediately, unable to hold back any longer. 

 

He doesn’t mean to halfway collapse onto his brother then, but Loki doesn’t seem to mind so much once Thor has pulled out and shuffled over a bit so he can breathe. 

 

“Feeling better?” Thor asks him after a moment, and when Loki swats at his head, he takes it as a yes.

 

“For now,” he mutters. “Ask me again tomorrow when I’m too sore to walk.”

 

Thor grins into the side of his neck, and leaves a much gentler kiss over one of the bruises he finds there. “Well, since your mood has improved so drastically—”

 

“Don’t be smug,” Loki interrupts, and Thor pinches him before finishing his sentence. 

 

“—then perhaps you’ll tell me what happened today.”

 

Loki says nothing, but Thor can feel him tense, and then he’s disentangling himself and stumbling over to the sink on unsteady legs. 

 

“You can tell me anything, you know,” Thor tries as Loki strips off his t-shirt and starts to clean himself up, but all he gets is a glare in the mirror in response. “It’s true. You know I love you no matter what.”

 

It becomes very clear very quickly that this was not the correct thing for him to say, though he can’t begin to imagine why.

 

“Is that so?” Loki asks, rounding on him with a wild look in his eyes, and Thor doesn’t get further than a hurt, _of course_ , before he continues. “Even if I were a monster? Could you love me then? If I were a frost giant?”

 

“Yes, Loki, even then,” Thor says, his annoyance at Loki’s dramatic tone starting to grow. But then he sees the look on his brother’s face and realizes it wasn’t just an idle, hypothetical question, and he sits up straight and says, “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you’re not a frost giant. What are you even talking about?”

 

Loki closes his eyes then, and Thor thinks he’s only steeling himself to deliver a verbal lashing that is surely undeserved, but then something _else_ happens.

 

It starts at Loki’s fingertips and spreads from there, and within seconds, every inch of his skin is _blue_. Even the marks Thor had left on him are violet-tinged, like the bite mark around one of his nipples (a darker shade of blue itself), and he’s covered in raised lines that curve around his arms and thighs, even his cock, over his chest—and his face as well. His eyes are a deep red when he opens them, the whites included, and Thor can only gape at him in shock. 

 

“Well?” Loki hisses at him. His voice is unchanged, but Thor has seldom heard such a venomous tone from him, even at his angriest. 

 

All he can think to say is, “How…?” and it sets Loki to pacing back and forth beside the bed. 

 

“You think I know?” he asks, throwing his hands up, and Thor can’t stop staring at the lines on his skin, the contrast of his teeth against the deep blue of his lips. “But this is what I am, I know that much, and I must have always been. It only makes sense…”

 

When Thor has nothing to say to that, Loki stops in front of him and reaches out, like he’s going to grab ahold of Thor’s bare shoulder—

 

Thor flinches. It’s completely involuntary. He doesn’t mean for it to happen, and he regrets it the instant it does, but it’s too late to take it back. 

 

The blue fades from Loki’s skin as he backs away, his wide eyes going white and pale green once again, like the red has bled out of them.

 

“Loki, I…” Thor starts, unsure of how to fix this, but knowing that he has to. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not a monster. You’re still you.”

 

He just can’t seem to find the right words tonight, and Loki just scoffs, reaching for his clothes with shaking hands. 

 

“‘Not a monster,’” he repeats, like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. “As though you weren’t ready to wipe them all out yourself not long ago. And why shouldn’t you have been?”

 

“Brother—”

 

“Oh, I sincerely doubt that now,” Loki says, cutting him off. “Don’t you?”

 

Thor refuses to acknowledge that statement, but it doesn’t matter because Loki’s past listening to him, it seems, pulling on his shirt and jeans and starting to pace again the moment he’s dressed.

 

“Look at them, though!” he insists, but Thor doesn’t think he’s really speaking to him anymore. “They’re blood-thirsty savages! You saw as well as I did. And look how quickly they leapt at the opportunity to take back the Casket and lay waste to Asgard. They didn’t even bother to find out who had offered them the chance! They just pounced on it like animals!”

 

Loki continues, spouting more hate and vitriol, but Thor ignores that, because suddenly, it’s all clicked into place for him. And for the second time tonight, he feels as though his world has been turned on its head.

 

_The house of Odin is full of traitors,_ Laufey had said. 

 

“Loki,” Thor says then, quietly enough to get his attention.

 

Loki stops mid-rant to turn and look at him, breathing hard. 

 

“What did you do?” Thor asks him, trying his best to keep his voice from shaking, and either Loki sees that there’s no use in denying it, or he’s simply past caring.

 

“It all would have worked out if we hadn’t gone to Jotunheim,” he says. “Everything would have been fine.”

 

Thor repeats himself, a little less steadily this time, holding onto his control as best he can. 

 

“What did you _do_?”

 

“I showed them the way into Asgard, and hid them until the right moment. Nothing more.”

 

“And ‘the right moment’ was only seconds away from Father naming me king?” Thor demands. 

 

“I only meant to delay it!”

 

“Why?!”

 

Loki’s face twists in disbelief. “You weren’t ready!” he nearly shouts. “Can’t you see that? You were unfit to rule! You were hotheaded and arrogant… You would have doomed us all! And you proved me right, didn’t you? You marched straight into Jotunheim and started a war!”

 

The worst thing is that Thor knows he’s right. Despite his anger and disappointment, and the sting of his brother’s betrayal, he knows that it’s all true. But it doesn’t change what Loki has done, or excuse it, and Thor can’t seem to reconcile his conflicting thoughts. 

 

“I need some air,” he says, setting his jaw and reaching for his own clothes. 

 

But Loki just huffs, “Don’t bother,” and grabs his shoes on his way out. 

 

 

———

———

 

 

It takes what seems like forever with his hands trembling the way they are, but Loki eventually gets a fire started up on the roof of the lab, and then tries to find a comfortable position in one of Jane’s lawn chairs. He’d forgotten his key to the front door in his haste, but the climb up hadn’t been too difficult. It hadn’t left him feeling any warmer, however.

 

The other chair is still broken, and Loki glares past the fire at it, wondering where he and Thor could possibly go from here… whether or not he’s ruined everything. It’s all out now, what he is and what he’s done, and he can still see the disgust in Thor’s eyes when he’d let the ice come forward again. Thor had tried to hide it and make up for it, sure, but it was there all the same, just as he’d feared it would be. 

 

But the hurt on his face when he’d realized what Loki had done had been just as painful. He knows that Thor has changed since they’ve been on Midgard, he’s seen the vast improvements that have been made, but Loki had ignored all of that and torn him down without a second thought anyway. Thor hadn’t deserved that, and he may never forgive Loki for it.

 

He’ll have to face this again in the morning, he knows. Jane is expecting them both for another day of fruitless speculation, and now more than ever, he sees how imperative it is to get this working as soon as possible. Disheartened but still determined, he resolves himself to a cold night of running through all the possibilities and the data in his head once again.

 

… But it’s absolutely ridiculous, he thinks with a huff of frustration. He’s a _frost giant_ , for Norns’ sake. He shouldn’t be shivering.

 

He ignores the thought of how warm he had been in his other skin, however, and pulls his jacket around himself a little tighter instead.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

The walk out in the chilly night air once Loki had left had not done Thor any good. Nor had tossing and turning in the spare bed for several hours, unable to sleep or come to any sort of conclusion about what to do. And the next morning, he’s still wrestling with his options while he showers and dresses and walks down to the lab with his hair still wet, knowing that Loki will probably be there, and unsure of what he’ll say when he sees him. 

 

But one thing is clear to Thor already. Despite everything that Loki has done, the betrayal and all the lies that followed it, he’d pulled himself out of bed this morning all too aware of Loki’s absence, wishing he’d been there. It will take time to forgive him, Thor knows… but he will. He has no doubt of that. They’ve been too intertwined and wrapped up in one another for centuries for him to ever be complete without Loki in his life, and the last two months have only deepened what was already there to begin with. Things may never be the same between them, but someday, and probably sooner than it should, this will stop eating at him, and the anger will fade altogether. Maybe that’s wrong of him, or unhealthy even, but since when has their relationship ever been truly healthy?

 

For now, however, the sight of Loki in yesterday’s clothes with dark circles under his eyes leaves him feeling equal parts bitter and relieved. Loki avoids eye contact (which is fine by Thor, honestly), and gives all his attention to the cup of coffee that Jane hands him. 

 

“I’d judge you for falling asleep on the roof if I hadn’t done it myself before,” she tells Loki, then takes a sip out of her own mug. “Did all that stargazing provide any new insights?”

 

“As a matter of fact, it did,” Loki says quietly, and everyone, including Thor, turns to look at him expectantly. 

 

“Oh?” 

 

Loki keeps his eyes on his coffee and says, “We won’t be getting anywhere on this in the next decade, not with our technological limits. So I think it’s time for a shortcut.”

 

“What shortcut?” Darcy asks. 

 

“There’s an artifact we might be able to use. It was left on Earth for safekeeping a thousand years ago or so, and it could be the key to making this work,” Loki says, then adds, “at least, if you want to believe the legends,” with a wry look at Selvig. 

 

“More magic, oh good,” Selvig scoffs. “And how is this artifact supposed to help us?”

 

“It can open doorways in space.”

 

Selvig throws up his hands.

 

“Whoa, wait,” Jane says. “I mean, assuming that I believe this is the real deal, why haven’t you brought it up before?”

 

“It isn’t meant to be handled by mortal men,” Thor cuts in then with a glare at Loki. “And we’re all mortal here, in case you’d forgotten, brother.”

 

Loki meets his eyes for the first time this morning, but not for long, and says, “I don’t see what other option we have.”

 

“So you’re saying it’s dangerous?” Jane asks. 

 

“Undoubtedly,” Thor tells her, “which is why we should let it be.”

 

“How dangerous?”

 

Jane doesn’t look very concerned, only cautiously optimistic, and Thor doesn’t get a chance to speak before Loki does. 

 

“We should be able to harness its power with the right precautions in place. We’ll have to find it first, however. Last I heard it was in—what did you say it was called these days, Dr. Selvig? Norway?”

 

Darcy flips open the laptop in front of her over at the table and says, “Field trip, sweet. What am I googling here?”

 

“It’s called the tesseract,” Loki says, and Thor shakes his head while Darcy types it into the search bar, spelling it out to herself. 

 

“Brother, I don’t think this is wise,” he says. 

 

The way Loki narrows his eyes at that reminds Thor of the sneer in his voice last night at being called _brother_ , but he makes no apologies for it. He just stares at Loki until he finally lets out a huff and says, “Look, Thor. You can either wait another fifteen years, and maybe we’ll have it figured out, or we find the tesseract, and I send you home that same week. It’s worth the risk.”

 

There’s something very wrong with that statement, Thor thinks, but he doesn’t get a chance to say more than, “‘Send _me_ home?’ What do you—,” before Loki’s frustrated expression turns into confusion. He’s looking past Thor’s shoulder, through the window, and when Thor turns to look himself, he immediately tenses. 

 

There are no fewer than ten black SUVs outside, screeching to a halt outside the front door of the lab, men pouring from them. They don’t have their weapons drawn, but Thor knows that battle-ready look on their faces well. 

 

The one that had questioned Thor back at the crash site, Coulson, is at their head, and while the majority of his men wait outside, he and a small detail step into the lab without so much as knocking. 

 

“No, no, no,” Jane starts, marching toward them. “Not this again. Unless you have the rest of my equipment and are here to give it back, you can get out.”

 

“Dr. Foster, Dr. Selvig,” Coulson says, tone just as unruffled and pleasant as it had been during Thor’s interrogation. He gives Thor a skeptical look and adds, deadpan, “Dr. Blake.”

 

“What’s the meaning of this?” Thor asks. 

 

Coulson points toward the laptop, and an agent snatches it away from Darcy. “Seriously?!” she protests, and is ignored. 

 

“I think it’s time we had a conversation,” Coulson tells him. “I’m going to need you and your, uh, brother to come with me.”

 

“Oh, I see. But surely you must have all the information you need,” Loki says, glowering even through the look of sudden realization on his face. “You’ve been monitoring us for how long now?”

 

“What?! You bugged my lab?” Jane exclaims. 

 

“And your laptop, and their motel room,” Coulson says, then turns back to Thor and Loki. “By the way, do you know how many good surveillance people I’ve had quit because of you two?”

 

Thor feels his face heat up at that, understanding what all these humans may have heard, and refuses to look at Loki. 

 

“But now we need to talk about classified information and how you managed to get your hands on it. Not to mention about a hundred other questions my team has for you guys. Now we can do this the hard way, but it’s already been a long morning, and I’d really prefer the easy way.”

 

“Why now?” Jane asks. “It’s this tesseract thing, isn’t it?”

 

Coulson’s expression stays neutral as ever. “That’s classified,” he says.

 

“Definitely the tesseract thing,” Darcy mutters. 

 

Movement outside catches Thor’s attention then, and at the same time, every radio on Coulson’s backup starts crackling. The agents outside are all turning to look out toward the desert, and when Thor follows their line of sight, his stomach lurches. 

 

It’s hard to believe his eyes at first, but then there are more blue flashes, and the crowd grows larger with each, until Thor can’t deny what he’s seeing any longer: frost giants in the dozens, fast approaching Puente Antiguo, and the Casket of Ancient Winters held by the foremost of them. 

 

“Boss, we got incoming,” one of the SHIELD agents says to Coulson, but it’s clear that they have no idea what they’re dealing with. 

 

Loki’s mouth is open in shock when Thor looks his way, and when their eyes meet, he’s sure the dismayed look on his brother’s face is mirrored on his as well. It’s clear that Loki’s thinking the same thing: if they have the Casket, then what has become of Asgard? How did they get away with it—who did they have to go _through_ to get away with it? Laufey said there would be war, but has it already come to this?

 

“This is our fault,” Thor says, quietly stunned, and Loki can only stare back at him, speechless. 

 

The operatives who rush out to engage the frost giants are frozen solid within seconds, a few of them shattered immediately afterwards to ensure their fates, and others are run through with massive blades made of ice when their firearms prove useless. Debris begins to fly as the fighting reaches the edge of town, sending the townspeople fleeing, and Thor knows that they can’t allow this to go any further. 

 

Coulson hardly startles when Thor grabs hold of his shoulder, to his credit.

 

“They aren’t here for your men,” Thor tells him urgently, “but that won’t protect them if they get in the way. Call them back at once.”

 

“If you think I’m going to leave this town unprotected—”

 

“You don’t stand a chance,” Loki speaks up. “Leave this to us.”

 

They don’t stand a chance either, Thor knows, but it’s their responsibility all the same. Jane and Coulson both protest as the two of them hit the door, but Thor just tells everyone to stay where they are, and then he and Loki are running down the street, past swarming SHIELD agents, shouting at everyone they see to take cover. 

 

A blast of ice has them ducking for cover themselves just before they make it out into the open desert, and while they’re crouched behind a car, crowded in close and breathing hard, Loki pants, “So do we have a plan here? Or is this another case of making it up as we go?” 

 

Thor doesn’t get a chance to respond though, because the giant wielding the Casket pauses then, and calls out to all the Midgardians as they scramble to get away. 

 

“Give me the son of Odin,” he shouts, “or I will lay waste to your village. There will be no further requests or negotiation.”

 

Thor’s heart sinks. He hasn’t forgotten all of the frost giants he’d slain that day on Jotunheim, and when he looks back toward town, he can see Jane and Selvig and Darcy in the window of the lab, held back by a few agents left to guard them. He only sees one way that this can possibly end, but he knows what he has to do, mortal or not. There’s no choice here.

 

Loki is too distracted (likely trying desperately to come up with his own plan) to really react when Thor takes a moment to cup his cheek and get one last good look at him, but by the time he steps out from behind the car, Loki has caught on and is shouting after him frantically. 

 

“What are you doing?!” he cries. “Thor!”

 

“I’m making it up as I go,” Thor says, even though Loki is unlikely to hear him, and sets his jaw as he marches down to meet the enemy. 

 

 

———

———

 

 

“I’m here,” Loki hears Thor shout to the Jotunn invaders. “Do what you will with me, but leave these people be.”

 

His heart is pounding wildly in his chest, from the thought of what fate he may have sentenced Asgard to, the run out here, and now from Thor’s absolute _idiocy_. He’s got to find a way to get them out of this, and soon, because the giant with the Casket has transferred it to one hand and formed a massive blade of ice over the other as Thor approaches. 

 

“Thunderer,” he says. “I was looking for your brother, the traitor, but I’ll gladly kill you as well.”

 

His words don’t even register with Loki until he’s already moved, faster than Loki would have dreamed possible for something so massive. But by then, it’s too late, and Loki can only watch in anguish as Thor is lifted high off the ground, run through by the frost giant’s blade.

 

Loki is sprinting at them before his mind can catch up with his feet. He has no idea what he’s doing, but he doesn’t care, because Thor hits the ground in a limp sprawl and doesn’t move again. 

 

It’s easy now to call the ice to his hand as he launches himself at the Jotunn with a furious cry, but his enemy has a much longer reach than he does, and he’s seized around the throat before he can get close. His makeshift knife shatters when he tries to bury it in the giant’s forearm, too unstable to hold its shape, and all his shouting and struggling is useless—

 

But then the Jotunn’s eyes widen, and he very nearly lets go of Loki for half an instant, just long enough for Loki to get a grip around the fingers at his neck. The now-familiar warmth spreading across his skin explains his foe’s surprise, but Loki doesn’t even give the shift in form a second thought.

 

“If it isn’t the runt!” the giant says, but Loki ignores him and keeps trying to free himself. That doesn’t matter. Thor’s lying in a pool of his own blood, and what matters is making this monster pay for it. But then he continues, “It seems that Father should have slain you outright instead of leaving you to die, little brother,” and Loki can’t help but gape at him. 

 

“Look at your face—you didn’t even know, did you? I’m going to enjoy this so much more than I knew. I thought killing your Asgardian brother was a treat, but _this_ …”

 

That has Loki lashing out at him again, trying to form another weapon without success, and hissing, “You bastard!”

 

“No, _you’re_ the bastard, but a son of Laufey all the same.”

 

There’s a rushing noise in Loki’s ears now. The grip on his throat isn’t tight enough to cut off his airway, but he still can’t seem to catch his breath. 

 

“It’s all the more fitting that I should take your life,” he’s told, “after you sent Byleistr to his death with your little trap. A brother for a brother. And when I’ve finished with you, I’m going back to Asgard. Odin sleeps, and the realm suffers for it. I think I’ll kill him last, let him lie there and listen while I destroy Asgard’s defenses and slaughter them all.”

 

His brother—if he can even admit that to himself—lifts him off his feet then, and squeezes a bit harder. “How does that sound?” he asks. “Is that what you had in mind when you invited us in?”

 

Loki is vaguely aware of distant thunder then, but all it does is remind him of Thor and break his heart a little further. He doubts this is a glorious enough end to get him into Valhalla as well, so he kicks and claws, determined to fight until he can’t any longer, determined to earn his place next to Thor for eternity. But there’s another clap of thunder then, and a flash of lightning, loud and close enough to have the frost giants recoiling—

 

Loki’s legs fold beneath him as he’s suddenly dropped, and he hits the ground coughing and gasping. He didn’t hit his head, he’s sure of that much, but that seems to be the only thing that would explain the sight of Thor standing above him, Mjolnir in his hand and armor gleaming. 

 

Thor is on the Jotunn before he can raise the Casket back up, striking hard and fast and with a blast of lightning so bright and powerful that Loki can still see its afterimage for several moments even though he’d shielded his eyes. But seeing their leader fall spurs the rest of the giants into action, and they all converge on Thor with deafening roars. 

 

It’s then that Loki sees the Casket of Ancient Winters lying on the ground, just a few feet away. 

 

He takes a deep breath, and dives for it. 

 

 

———

———

 

 

If that frost giant had said anything, Thor hadn’t heard it. He hadn’t even had time to really understand what had happened… there was pain, and darkness, and then Mjolnir was alive in his hand and singing so sweetly after so long… and then he’d seen Loki, struggling in the giant’s grip and falling to the ground, and he’d acted without thought.

 

And now the battle rage is upon him. There are probably more giants coming at him than he can really handle, but the lightning is surging through his veins again, and he refuses to back down. He keeps Mjolnir swinging with this many foes in such close quarters, and those who manage to avoid a direct hit have the lightning to face every chance he gets to call it down again. 

 

In the thick of it, Thor belatedly realizes he’s left his flank open—he’s been idle for too long here on Midgard, it seems, and he isn’t as sharp as he once was—but when he braces himself for a blow, he feels a shock of ice-cold air instead, and turns to find a Jotunn frozen solid, its fist only inches from where Thor had been standing. Confused, he’s nearly hit again on the opposite side, and by the time he manages to clear himself some breathing room, there are even more veritable statues scattered around him, and the giants have started ignoring him in favor of this new threat. 

 

But not all of them—Thor ducks a shard of ice that would surely have taken his eye at the very least and flings his hammer at the Jotunn who had thrown it. Before Mjolnir can return to his hand, however, he feels something collide with him from behind, and it’s only by the slimmest margin that he stops the punch he’d intended to throw when he sees that it’s Loki, blue-skinned and his red eyes burning fiercely, the Casket of Ancient Winters glowing in his hands. 

 

He’s put himself at Thor’s back as they’ve done in battles and sparring matches their whole lives, and the familiarity of it outweighs how strange it looks. Together, they steadily begin to draw the attackers away from town and the innocent humans there, taking the fight further out into the desert. The sky is dark with low-hanging storm clouds, but the flashes of lightning and icy-blue bursts from the Casket provide a near-constant light that shows how the horde is dwindling.

 

There’s no telling how long it takes, but eventually only one Jotunn stands, facing them both with cold fury in his eyes, but he doesn’t make it further than two steps toward them before Loki halts him in his tracks, face frozen in a silent cry of rage, and Thor brings his hammer down.

 

 

———

———

 

 

The last frost giant shatters like glass as Loki watches, and when he surveys the battlefield, he finds himself disappointed that there’s no one left. The Casket seems to hum in his hands, and the power he feels flowing up from it and through him is heady and intoxicating… more than his own seidr had ever been. 

 

But then the sun shines through a break in the dissipating clouds, harsh and overly bright to his Jotunn eyes, and the feeling passes. 

 

As he stands there catching his breath, he looks over at Thor in all his glory and wonders how he could possibly be on his feet. He’d seen that blade plunged straight through Thor’s abdomen and out his back, but here he stands, looking as whole and strong as he’d been the morning of the coronation. But perhaps it isn’t worth questioning, he thinks when Thor turns to look back at him. 

 

He’s suddenly conscious of how he looks then, and tries his hardest to shove the ice in his veins back down, refusing to acknowledge how comfortable he’s started to feel in this skin. It won’t budge though, he realizes with dismay, and Thor is stepping closer with a steely look of determination on his face. It must be the Casket keeping him from shifting back, but Thor is there before he can drop it, and he braces himself for whatever is coming, knowing he deserves it—

 

Thor kisses him. 

 

There’s no hesitation or caution, and Loki panics, thinking of the damage his touch could do to Thor, but Thor’s holding him still with an arm around his waist and his fingers tangled in Loki’s hair, and he doesn’t seem to be frostbitten or in pain, just patiently waiting for Loki to catch on. 

 

So Loki catches on, letting go of the Casket with one hand and pressing himself into Thor full-body. They haven’t even been apart a full day yet, but his relief is almost tangible after thinking he would never have this again. 

 

It must show on his face when they part, because Thor looks at him long and hard with his brows furrowed, his thumb absently tracing the lines across Loki’s cheek. “We have quite a lot to discuss, you and I,” he finally says, and Loki nods, disappointed but unsurprised.

 

“Of course.”

 

“But you were marvelous, Loki. And you look stunning like this.”

 

He can’t have heard that correctly.

 

“I’m sorry—what?”

 

Thor grins at him, but whatever he means to say next is interrupted as the sky lights up in a brilliant blast of color, and Loki shoves the Casket at Thor, terrified at the thought of whoever could be coming through seeing him in this state.

 

His hands are the last to turn back to their usual color, but they do so just as Volstagg, Hogun, Fandral, and Sif emerge from the Bifrost, looking battle-worn but whole… though all of them look slightly confused as they take in Loki’s casual Midgardian clothing.

 

“What did we miss?” Fandral asks brightly.

 

 

———

 

 

Jane, Darcy, Selvig, and Coulson had joined them all out in the desert when the fighting was done, but it had only been in time for a rushed goodbye. It seemed that Odin had awoken during the Jotunn incursion, taken out the invaders with a mighty blast of his staff, and commanded that Loki and Thor, along with the Casket, be brought back to Asgard after a brief, private conversation with Heimdall. 

 

Coulson’s demands to debrief everyone had been ignored, and just before Sif had called for Heimdall to take them home, Jane had surprised Loki by hugging him and Thor fiercely, and threatening to come after them if they didn’t return soon. “I’ll find that tesseract myself if I have to,” she’d said. 

 

(Coulson’s muttered, “Good luck with that,” had also been ignored.)

 

But now, days later, Loki has found an inconspicuous spot on a balcony outside the largest feasting hall from which to observe the celebratory, post-battle revels inside. He hasn’t been locked in the dungeon or confined to his rooms, but there’s been no word on his paused punishment, and his seidr has not yet been returned to him, so he’s kept a low profile, unsure of his status. Only Frigga has sought him out, but she’d had no news to give him, and had only brought him one of his meals and a brief embrace. 

 

Movement catches his eye in the nearest archway then, and Loki turns to look out over the city as Thor approaches. 

 

Thor says nothing, but he stops near enough for their shoulders to brush where they both lean on the balcony railing. The closeness is reassuring, and while they stare out at the stars, listening to the shouted songs back in the hall, Loki begins to hope that they may be able to get past all this, someday. 

 

There’s just one glaring matter that has to be sorted out first, and Odin and Frigga’s appearance then presents the perfect opportunity to do so. 

 

“Midgard is safe because of you both,” Odin says, and Thor jerks upright and away from Loki as though he’s been scalded. But Loki doesn’t care about any of that at the moment. 

 

“And so I’m to be sent back?” he asks. “Or will my death sentence be expedited? We may have saved Midgard, but I’m still guilty of treason, as you’ve already said.”

 

His bitter, caustic tone seems to lower the temperature outside all on its own, and he ignores Thor’s sharp look.

 

Odin’s expression remains infuriatingly neutral as he says, “I had thought we might discuss your situation in a more formal setting, but perhaps it’s time after all.

 

“You are no citizen of Asgard,” he continues, and though Loki was expecting it, it hurts no less. “Nor are you my son.”

 

“Father—,” Thor starts to protest, but Odin silences him without a word.

 

Frigga remains silent, and somehow that hurts most of all. But when Loki turns to her, she gives him a reassuring nod that only serves to confuse him. 

 

“And so, Loki Laufeyson, because you are not _of_ Asgard, you cannot commit treason _against_ Asgard. I cannot fault you for seeking out your own people, your family, and inadvertently showing them the way into Asgard in the process. You could not have known that they would attempt to steal the Casket, nor that they would later come back and succeed.”

 

Loki scoffs at this, disbelieving, but Odin gives him a warning look, and he understands. This is to be the official story should it become necessary, and he’d better keep his mouth shut unless he’d rather keep his previous sentence. 

 

“Due to the ill will between you and your father on Jotunheim,” Odin concludes, “I hereby grant you asylum, and you will be allowed to stay in Asgard long term as a royal guest. Quarters befitting your station will be found for you in the guest wing of the palace.”

 

Gritting his teeth, Loki says, “I understand. Thank you for your generosity, Allfather.”

 

This response seems to be the correct one, and Odin turns, gesturing for Thor to follow him. Loki takes it as yet another good sign as far as their relationship is concerned that Thor hesitates, and looks to Loki for confirmation before going. 

 

Left alone with Frigga, Loki lets out a shaky breath and makes to excuse himself, muttering, “Your grace,” but she stops him with a hand at his elbow, shushes him, and pulls him into her arms. He doesn’t bother fighting it, too emotionally drained to resist the comfort she offers.

 

“It’s far from ideal, I know that,” she says quietly, her voice muffled against his shoulder, “but it was the only way to keep us all together. You know your father is bound by the law, the same as any of us.”

 

“He isn’t my father,” Loki huffs, and manages to pull away. “Why did he lie all this time? Both of you lied to me.”

 

“We didn’t want you to feel different, but I see now how we failed you in that as well.”

 

An understatement, Loki thinks, but doesn’t say it. “How did I come to be here?” he asks instead.

 

“Odin found you on Jotunheim when you were an infant. They’d left you to die.”

 

That agrees with his late brother’s account of it. 

 

“And why did he take me?”

 

“You were an innocent child. And he thought he might be able to bring about an alliance, unite the realms through you,” she says. 

 

“I can’t see how,” Loki mutters. He’s exhausted, and she knows it well, judging by her soft, encouraging look as she takes his face in her hands.

 

“You never know, Loki. But for now, both of my boys are home, and perhaps in time, the people will come to see you as the prince of Jotunheim instead.”

 

He doesn’t see the benefit in that, and he means to tell her so, but she just pats his cheek and says, “It will certainly make your relationship with Thor easier to accept, don’t you think?”

 

She leaves him gaping, and later, when he thinks back on this conversation, he’ll realize just how much she enjoyed springing that on him. But for now, he’s still trying to come up with something to say to that when she turns to leave, telling him that his seidr will be restored to him once the Allfather has fully recovered from his Odinsleep, since it was cut short.

 

Once he’s regained his composure, he glances back in on the feast on his way back to his rooms, and spots Thor sitting with their friends, quiet and subdued. He must feel Loki’s eyes upon him, because he looks up then and meets his gaze, concern clear on his face. Loki shakes his head in response to his silent question, even manages a half-smile, and after a moment, Thor returns it.

 

Maybe they’ll be fine after all, Loki thinks.

 

 

———

———

 

 

 

It takes nearly a year, but Jane greets Thor and Loki with open arms and a fresh pot of coffee, and then launches into an explanation of the work she’s been doing with SHIELD since they had left, and that the government has actually had the tesseract for decades. She’s less enthusiastic about what SHIELD means to do with it, however, and Thor finds his own furious expression mirrored on Loki’s face when he turns to him. 

 

“Perhaps it’s time for that debriefing,” Loki suggests. 

 

Twenty minutes after Thor enters the new, permanent SHIELD facility, the alarm sounds, sirens blaring throughout the corridors, and Coulson adopts a mildly perturbed look (quite severe in his case) as the Loki sitting next to Thor at the table dissolves in a green flash. Mission accomplished, then, Thor thinks, and gives this Fury person a stern talking-to about playing with powers he cannot comprehend before he makes his own exit.

 

Loki meets him in the middle of the desert as agreed, the tesseract winking out of sight into a pocket dimension just as Thor arrives, dozens of SHIELD agents in vehicles in hot pursuit after him. 

 

“We’ll have to make this up to Jane,” Thor says, mirroring Loki’s grin, and calls for Heimdall.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY. Feels good to get that off my chest :D
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me!!! <3333


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